Perfection and Pain
by Jared
Summary: [CCD] Two sides of the same coin, perfection and pain are but one for both Suoh and Nokoru. Could their friendship really be nothing but perfection and pain?


Perfection and pain  
Jared 

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Disclaimer:  
The following characters belong to CLAMP and are only borrowed for the fanfic. 

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Sometimes I look on and feel so helpless. It's ironical, really. They say man control their destiny. Not for me. 

Whenever he thinks I'm not looking, he lets down his guard, and allows the sadness to flicker over his face. How I wish I could wipe that sorrow from his face, to make everything right for him. For me, he smiles, tries to hide behind that everything-is-beautiful mask. Does he not know that this task of his merely hurts me more? 

There were times when I wondered what my uses were. Before him, I was like a lost puppy, unsure of my direction, of my purpose. I could be strong in various aspects, but there was this void that I never could quite fill. Even without Mother reminding me of the someone that I would meet someday, I instinctively knew that there was someone I had to find, someone that I was missing... And imagine my joy when I found... when I found... him. 

We were worlds apart. Just as day and night are perfect compliments, he was my other half. He was the sunny half, the spring and the summer, the brilliance and joy. I was the darker half, the autumn and the winter, the one that reeked of responsibilities and duties. I suppose I could say I was envious of him. At least, to be more precise, I was envious of his mask. I wanted to be like that- popular, carefree, free with my emotions and all- never needing to weigh my actions was a wonderful idea that I toyed with very long. 

Yes, it was a wonderful idea, a wonderful thought. Freedom, total absolute freedom, without having to put on my own mask of being responsible. Yet this was a mask that I put on willingly, hesitantly at first, but now, took as a part that I had in a play. Just as he clapped on that of utter joy, I put on mine of utter gloom. Ironical that we should be the best of friends? Not really, for we both knew we had to- none was easier or better than our other half. His involved being cheerful and joyous, even when he felt down in the dumps, he had to act cheery to keep both our moods up, mind swerving quickly from thought to thought to keep us entertained. Me, I had a task of my own. I had to be responsible, to the extent of being stifling. I had to be the wet blanket, the one that turned down virtually _all_ of his ideas to keep us sane, to stop him from going overboard in his misery. For his schemes were each more elaborate than the last- all for escape from that sickening cheeriness he had placed upon his shoulders. 

Initially, I took his act for real. Yet as he slowly opened up to me, I began to realise that his world wasn't as perfect as I dreamed. I felt ashamed for even being fooled. After all, how could I, who had thought that I had known him inside out _not_ realise his pain? That was when I donned my own mask- the one of gloom, which I was accustomed to wearing, just as he had grown so in tune with the one of false smiles. Together, we were the perfect combination- the dream team, as some would call it. One the brains, the other the muscles. Indeed, it seemed perfect, did it not? So perfect that it was too good to be true. And it was. 

For with our perfection, we had pain. We _were_ pain. Perfection and pain, that's what we are... what _he_ is. Seemingly perfect in every way, yet the truth is known only to the two of us. His sorrow is so great that his slender form is not a large enough vessel to contain it- all the things that happen around in the world, from the loneliness of a new student to the discrimination that one faces in the cruel world out there, have an impact on him, takes it toil slowly on him… and me. Hit him once with the harsh realities of life, watch as it slowly sinks in and he begins to blame himself for not being able to stop such things from happening. Then, watch as his sorrow begins to spill over onto me. He doesn't mean for that to happen, that I can tell, for when he senses my distress at finding him miserable, a victim of circumstance and a nature that cares too deeply for others, he switches at once to that of the "perfect" role model, the one that he wears to keep others happy. And then I feel thoroughly guilty... for making someone wear a mask just so I may feel better, that even amidst his grief, he still has to watch out for me. I, who was supposed to help to bring him happiness, actually forced him into a situation where he dons a mask to pretend to smile. Yet I guess that is the nature of our relationship- for all it's perfection, it has its share of pain, and I was all too aware of the familiar, stabbing pain in my heart. 

I could lie and say that seeing him cheerful made me sad. It didn't. Kaichou has this wonderful gift. When he smiles, he makes you forget about _all_ your worries and your problems. So jolly is his grin that you can only believe that joy exists within him. How else would anyone be able to smile a smile as enchanting as that? Yet it was precisely because he looked so happy that I was torn apart, because I knew for certain that he wasn't- moments before there had been a look of shuttered sadness, sadness that had, in a blink of an eye, been changed to utter ecstasy. Was that even humanly possible? Then all those joyous moments that we shared in playing our ever ongoing game of "Let's do the paperwork... NOT!" game and those hours spent searching and hunting were really nothing more than a distraction, for the both of us, especially when there seemed to be something that disturbed my jovial friend. 

There would be nothing I liked more than to be as innocent and naive as Akira, easily distracted, oblivious to the signs of grief displayed by my Kaichou, believing what he wanted me to. Yet this voice in my head knows that it is a lie, and wishes, for some insane reason that it would vanish. // _Stop being brave for my sake._ // I want to say. // _Please, you don't have to lie with me. Don't lie. I want you to be happy, genuinely happy._ // But those thoughts never leave my mouth. For I know, that somewhere inside of me, I want so much to be mistaken, so much for this to be the truth. Saying it aloud would be to admit that this nightmare is reality… and I never want that. 

Takamuras are supposed to put their Ones joy before their own. I'm a disgrace to the family- for I cannot find it within me to do just that. I want to be happy, to feel satisfied myself, and even though I know that this is all a mask, I want to continue with this act, to try to make myself happy, make Kaichou happy. We are entangled in this mess, the both of us. I have to try to be happy, like being with Nagisa- san because I know it makes him happy. 

Seeing others happy seems to be the most effective way of making Kaichou happy, for some reason that I cannot fathom. So though it hurts like nothing else, I know I have to try to put my own feelings aside for Kaichou to be happy. Worrying about him only serves to make him unhappy, and try even harder than ever to convince me that he is truly happy in order to grant me the happiness he wishes me to have. Indeed, this is a vicious cycle, and I'm not sure where it starts, or where it ends. Am I being happy to make myself happy? Or am I doing this to keep my Kaichou joyous? I no longer have a solution to that question. I wear that look of joy in his presence because I want to give him back what I have taken. And he... he is so used to trying to make me happy that he doesn't quite know where to stop. That entire facade about needing and wanting time off from paperwork is simply an unspoken agreement on both our parts to put on this show for others, for Akira, at least. 

Perfection and pain, for this is what this is. We are trapped, us both, like animals in cages, locked up by our own pain, throwing away the key so that we can try to make life more bearable for each. To speak of it would be to destroy this balance that we have struck. Yes, to all, everything is perfect- the looks of perfection. The beautiful friendship, the wonderful relationship we have together. That of guardian and charge, which makes every one envious- to have people who understand. 

Yet those who envy really do not understand. I'm not sure I understand myself. Everything is changing, moving, spinning, spinning so fast, out of control... is our friendship really perfect? Would it be perfect if all this is just a lie, if all this is just to make the cruel truth easier to bear? I don't know, I honestly don't know. 

When I look at those deep blue eyes, which more often than not are blue pools of sorrow, pain overwhelms me. My eyes reflect the emotions in his. What is it? A mixture of joy and sadness perhaps, and the knowledge that true joy will never be ours because of these roles we have to play? We do enjoy ourselves, to a limit. Yet at the same time we laugh, we cry. Shedding tears of joy mingled with that of sorrow, joy for being together, for finding perfect halves to match our imperfect selves; sorrow for being chained, locked, unable to be free. For that freedom would come at a price- the price of the joy of our friends. 

Indeed, perfection brings with it pain, brings with it sorrow... perfection and pain.... they are compliments to each other.... like Kaichou and I. 


End file.
